Better still, after a wait of several months, I'm going to the Hammersmith Apollo tonight to see the god of modernity, Rufus Wainwright, strut his funky gay stuff. Emily C-A and I are sitting in row 7 of the circle but have convinced ourselves that we might be able to turn him if we are glamorous enough and the spotlight comes our way. Wish me luck.
Wednesday, 31 October 2007
Grasping the bottom rung
An ambiguous blog title but an unambiguous excitement - I have been given a provisional mortgage offer and am ready to start house hunting. I couldn't sleep last night: I feel elated and nervous and under-confident and fool-hardy. Today I have been looking online in earnest. It's a strange sensation - something I always envisaged I would do eventually is actually happening. Now. It's nothing like I imagined: I'm looking on my own to buy on my own, funding it on my own and, amazingly, it feels absolutely fanfuckingtastic.
Better still, after a wait of several months, I'm going to the Hammersmith Apollo tonight to see the god of modernity, Rufus Wainwright, strut his funky gay stuff. Emily C-A and I are sitting in row 7 of the circle but have convinced ourselves that we might be able to turn him if we are glamorous enough and the spotlight comes our way. Wish me luck.
Better still, after a wait of several months, I'm going to the Hammersmith Apollo tonight to see the god of modernity, Rufus Wainwright, strut his funky gay stuff. Emily C-A and I are sitting in row 7 of the circle but have convinced ourselves that we might be able to turn him if we are glamorous enough and the spotlight comes our way. Wish me luck.
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